


Fight or flight or...

by icantreallyfindausername



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, One Shot, Romance, Short, Starmora Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20793008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantreallyfindausername/pseuds/icantreallyfindausername
Summary: A crammed space, an adrenaline rush and poor impulse control ... Peter and Gamora cannot help but follow their instincts.





	Fight or flight or...

**Author's Note:**

> My last submission for Starmora Week (Day 6: Instinct) and first attempt at erotica for this ship. Again, a bit of a trope-y setting, but it was fun to write.  
I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank Sharkinterviewee, for hosting Starmora Week and offering great prompts, and all the creators for this fandom: the quality of your work is beyond amazing and being able to enjoy so much new content is a wonderful treat!

They are trapped.

“Dammit!” Peter exclaims, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. “We either run or prepare for one hell of a fight.”

“There’s too many of them,” Gamora says, rapidly assessing their chances. “And no way out of here.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

She looks around, quickly scanning their surroundings until her eyes land on an unassuming door, half-hidden behind a curtain. Hurriedly, she grabs Peter by the wrist and pushes him inside, rapidly following him and closing the door behind her.

It is just a closet, crammed and tiny, with barely enough space for both of them. A creaking noise brings her attention back to the situation outside. She stares from a small crack, holding her breath as a few of the guards enter the room and rapidly glance at the space, checking for intruders. Their malevolent eyes sweep over the furniture, evaluating the possible hiding places with deadly accuracy. A call echoes in the corridor and they hesitate for a moment before turning around to answer, leaving the room. Only then Gamora considers it safe to exhale.

In the dark space, she feels Peter brush away her hair. Her assumption that he is just trying to get it out of his face quickly vanishes as his hand lingers on her neck, trailing a tingling pattern.

“Peter,” she whispers. “It’s not really the best - ah!” She gasps softly as his mouth finds the sweet spot halfway to her shoulder and she instinctively extends her neck, granting him better access. One of his hands knots in her hair, the other slithers around her waist, pressing into the soft flesh by her hip, while hers reach backward to hold onto his shoulders. An enticing noise escapes her at the path of nibbles and kisses slowly climbing up her neck and Peter’s low rumble vibrates on her skin in response.

“I adore listening to you moan for me,” he breathes in her ear, voice hushed and hoarse with desire. “But I need you to be quiet, okay?”

She inhales and half nods half quivers in agreement, and he catches her earlobe between his lips, suckling on it as his fingers spread on her stomach, holding her close. Unconsciously, she presses herself against him, wishing she could turn around and reciprocate his caresses. Instead she can only writhe with animalistic eagerness as his strong hands travel to the front of her shirt, disappear underneath and cup her breasts. Calloused but gentle fingers caress her sensitive skin, and her head falls back onto Peter’s shoulder as he pinches and rolls her nipples.

His body is warm and firm against hers, and when she arches into his movements, she can feel his arousal pressing against her. She cannot help but grind against it, causing Peter to gasp before rolling his hips to meet hers. His right hand leaves her chest, rapidly skimming downwards and reaching the hem of her pants. A finger dips under it, tentative, exploring, before he unzips the garment and lets his hand slide inside. Two of his fingers leisurely trace the edge of her entrance, before gathering her moisture and reaching back up to her clit. Agonizingly slowly, they circle the sensitive nub, gradually increasing the pressure until Gamora has to bite her lip not to moan.

Her hands move frantically, searching blindly for Peter’s belt buckle and skillfully undoing it behind her back. Impatient, she reaches down his pants, caressing him with smooth strokes. Peter’s sharp inhale rewards her and she smiles, turning her head to steal a kiss. His eager fingers mimic her rhythm, pulling her flush against him, while his other hand keeps teasing her breasts.

“Peter…” Her call is thick with craving, closer to a sigh than a whisper. “I need you inside me…”

She feels him twitch at her words, silently curse at the sheer hunger in them. A moment, and he is pushing the fabric down the curve of her hips, carefully positioning himself at her entrance. She presses against him, raw instinct taking over, and feels Peter fill her beautifully, sinking deeper and deeper into her. His hands return to her body, one rubbing her clit, the other tangling in her hair, tugging slightly to expose her neck. He bites and suckles on it, his steady thrusts picking up as Gamora braces herself against the doorframe, trying hard to stay quiet.

But Peter’s fingers press and tease her bundle of nerves, his mouth and tongue and teeth assault her skin and he pushes deep into her, again and again and again, harder and faster with each stroke, and finally pleasure overwhelms her. It washes over her in waves, so powerful and absolute that she hardly notices Peter’s hand clamping on her mouth to prevent her scream of ecstasy. He releases into her, his warm seed filling her and dripping down her thighs, and another orgasm shakes her, until they are both panting and slumping against the wall in a blissful haze.

As their breath gradually slows down, Peter trails his fingers on Gamora’s cheek, making her twist around to catch her mouth in a fervent kiss, smiling against her lips. She smiles back, inhaling deeply to eventually find her bearings.

Carefully, she peeks through the crack in the door: no one is in sight. “We should hurry back,” she murmurs, zipping her pants and checking for her sword. Peter nods and pushes a hand to the door to open it.

It is only when they are safely back to the ship that he leans in from behind her and with a husky conspiratorial whisper sends a jolt right to her core.

“That was a pretty fun third option.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Your comments make my day :)


End file.
